This Is How You Get What You Want
by IWriteNaked
Summary: I have seen you at your best, and I have seen you at your worst, and I choose both. Clace. One shot.


**This one is for my Parabatai, DeathCabForMari. She wanted me to write about the night that JoeLeigh became official. It's taken a while, and I swear that the real story was cuter than this, but the real conversation was **_**way **_**long, and I can't seem to remember all of it.**

**Thanks to my beta, rippingbutterflywings, for being a glorious human being. One day we will eat guacamole together, and plot some way to be as tall as the others…**

**Anyways, this is kind of what happened after "Darkness, Everybody." You don't **_**have **_**to read it to get this, but if you want the back story, there it is… I swear, one day I will stop writing one shots about my personal life.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Mortal Instruments, but JoeLeigh is going strong, and I am so incandescently happy.**

* * *

There we were, and I couldn't seem to think of a worse place to be.

"I've waited my entire life to be with you," you said. "But I don't think I can right now."

I tried to pull my hand out of yours, but you held it tighter. We were sitting on the couch in Maryse's living room, and she was sober for once. It was just past midnight, and everyone else was asleep. When you picked me up that night, you didn't warn me that we would be staying over at your mother's house. Had I known, I would have stayed home. After everything she'd said to me—how she'd gone out of her way to hurt me—I wasn't willing to put myself in a situation where I had to see her. You didn't see it that way. You just didn't want to face her alone.

There were black spots on the sleeves of my white shirt: my tears—my acid rain. "I can't do this again, Jace."

"I know, Clary. I'm sorry I hurt you."

"_Stop _apologizing," I growled. "I don't care how sorry you are; it doesn't change anything. You're a coward."

"I'm not a coward," you said clearly. "I don't know who I am, but that's not it."

"I don't know what that means."

You sighed. "It means that I have a lot to figure out. I don't even know who I am anymore, Clary."

"You're Jace," I told you. "You don't have to be anything else."

You looked at me, eyes full of longing and pain, and I knew that I wasn't ready to be your friend again. It was too soon, but you needed me, and I couldn't ignore your calls. "I don't know who that is. I've spent my life trying to be the perfect church boy that my mother raised me to be, and I've fallen more times than I can count. People talk about these miracles that God performs for them—he brings their families back together, he heals them of cancer…hell, Clary, I've seen people regain their eyesight after being blind for eleven years. Pastor Starkweather says that there are miracles all around us, but I only seem to have bad things happening to me. I see these miracles all around me, but I'm still waiting for mine. I've seen people brought back from the dead, but I can't even figure out who I am."

"I know who you are," I whispered. "You are so much more than I could ever voice. You're my best friend, Jace Herondale. You're the only person who made me laugh after Simon died, and you're the only boy that Jonathan didn't want to kill for coming near me. You're the one who makes sure I'm still eating, when no one else will notice the weight loss." I gripped your hand, failing to hold back tears. "You are a Superman necklace, and the fact that you yell 'my black brother!' whenever you see that black PT Cruiser on the road. You're the kid who cleans the church on Wednesdays, and you're the only person I've ever met who would still talk to your mother, when she is so undeserving. You're not written in the stars, Jace. You can be whoever you want to be, but this is who you are for me. You've got the biggest ego of anyone I've ever met, but you also give the most comforting hugs. You're the only person who still asks me about my art. Aside from Simon, you're the only real best friend I've ever had. You don't have to be any more than that. This"—I motioned toward you with my free hand—"Is enough. You are enough. If there's ever any question about that, I'll be here to set you straight. Every. Time. You're the best person I have _ever _met, and you don't have to be anything else."

You blinked, your golden eyes glistening with unshed tears. It was the closest I ever got to seeing you cry. The smile that spread across your face struck me as strange, but I was glad to finally see a sign of happiness for the first time in weeks.

Your awe struck eyes bore into mine, and I found refuge within the space inside your arms. "You are my miracle," you whispered, and we drifted peacefully off into the night. Just you, and me, and the possibility of what we could be.

* * *

**Shoutout to my boyfriend, who I will never show this to… You're my favorite, Joe the Hoe/Doofus/Jobama.**

**Yours,**

**Ace/Ash.**

**NOW. I strongly suggest you go check out Breakups and Shakeups by DeathCabForMari, and Maybe Someday by rippingbutterflywings because love.**


End file.
